


What Maslow Missed

by Koi



Category: Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle
Genre: Alternate Universe, Comedy, Drama, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-03
Updated: 2013-09-03
Packaged: 2017-12-25 13:00:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/953399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Koi/pseuds/Koi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The year was 1969. Amidst the worldly changes that permeated through the decade, two men were simultaneous declared missing, presumed dead, in the Pacific Ocean. The report was filed as two unrelated cases; they would beg to differ.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Maslow Missed

Warnings: morbid depictions, discussion of death, inappropriate use of early TV sitcoms, coconut pies, 

 

* * *

 

A yellow raft dotted the expanse of sea. It floated as a single entity amongst a whole lot of blue. Two men reclined on opposite ends, one blond and light as cream, the other dark haired and tanned. Water sloshed at their bare feet; the skin below their ankles was already flaked and raw, sore and blistering. Angry burns marked their bare arms and faces. Exhaustion and fatigue weighed on them as their forms reclined in boneless heaps on either side of the raft.

 

The dark haired man lifted his neck, his muscles popping satisfyingly with the movement. He had slanted eyes that appeared to shine red in certain light, giving him an almost devilish appearance. His bloodshot eyes regarded his death companion. He stared at the prostate figure as if to somehow strip him bare.

 

His pulsing headache wouldn’t allow him to concentrate, though.  Pfft, like he wanted to concentrate on that idiot anyway. The blond man was the cause of his headache. Just one day stuck in the middle of the ocean, and he did not pray for death more than when Fay yammered on about some trivial topic. Fay was a man of many words, most of them nonsense. Though, he talked constantly, he never revealed anything substantial. That annoyed Kurogane the most; he had no idea what kind of person Fay was. Kurogane always believed himself to be an accurate judge of character, though his method of cataloguing people was painfully black and white. He wasn’t a man who bothered himself with trivial gray areas, so nothing but the most extreme of circumstances could have drawn him to that man.

 

Fay may have been the last person on Earth he would have wanted to spend his final days with, but he was the last person he had on Earth. They were going to die; he already accepted that. The only mystery left was, “Which humiliating way was he going to go?” Morbid thoughts crept into his head. Would he dehydrate, or would madness drive him to drown himself? He wondered which one would die first. Would he wake one day and find a body where his companion was? Would he have to haul the body into the ocean before the scent of baking dead flesh became too much? Or would it be Fay that had to precariously balance on the soft rubber of the edges as he threw his body out for the scavengers? Dead bodies floated until they became too bloated with sea water. He had yet to fully think of himself as a thing, a body, that his flesh and bone could be divided and bartered between the various lower sea creatures until no one but the slimiest of worms would claim it.

 

Fay awoke with a low moan. Perhaps, he would have one more day on this hell raft after all. He stretched his neck side to side, popping his spine. He had a big, silly grin on his face! Could nothing faze this man? It wasn’t natural. He acted as if he was on a cruise, chatting, smiling, and overly gay. Last hour, he rambled on about the evolutionary developments of isolated species, something about frogs. He was an intelligent man, the most intelligent idiot Kurogane knew. However, he was so absently chipper, that he worried about the blonde’s sanity. He annoyed Kurogane in many ways. Fay could not treat the situation as gravely as he thought he should. He shouldn’t be chatting, reclining, nor wearing that awful, cheery shirt! Head to toe, he was mocking the gravity of the situation.

 

“Why so quiet, Kuro-wreck? Something wrong?” He questioned out of the blue.

Was there something wrong? He was drifting on what would be his deathbed, hot, ravished, and skin like sandpaper. Every second, he was tortured by the sound of sea water lapping against the raft. That sound beat against his skull. Just one refreshing drink would be poison. The smell of salt filled his nostrils, making him want to vomit. Was there something wrong? The absurdity of that…wait, what did he just call him?

 

“What was that?” he inquired of his companion.

 

“Something wrong?”

 

“No, the other thing.”

 

Fay smiled as he explained, “That’s your new name. Kurogane’s too severe. I might depress you if I address you by such a stuffy name all the time. Isn’t it funny how well Kuro- compliments almost everything.”

 

The affronted man almost unbalanced the raft when he protested, “I don’t need you telling me what does or doesn’t depress me, and it isn’t funny! It’s ridiculous!” He didn’t know he was capable of that burst of energy. It left as soon as it came. He slumped back down, unable and unwilling to battle Fay’s persistent jabbering.

 

And he did persist, “Not funny? You think I could do better? How about Kuro-tan? Even in the middle of nowhere you tan well.” Kurogane just grunted in response. “I’m jealous. I burn so easily. Last summer….” He drowned out the blonde’s voice; it wasn’t like he needed his encouragement to talk, anyway.

 

He watched him lazily, listening to the sloshing of the waves instead of the chatter. Fay expressively waved his hands as he talked. It was as if he needed to punctuate every syllable with a gesture. He wondered if he could tie his hands. Would that shut him up? His hands moved so fast, he saw four of them, wait, six. His outline blurred and all six hands became a fuzzy blob. The waves pushed against his skull more, filling his ears, coming out of his ears. His vision swam, and he couldn’t hold his head up anymore. He saw a blond blur crawl over to him.

 

“Are you alright, Kuro-float?” He quickly snapped back into consciousness, lines solidifying into reality.

 

“Kuro-float?” He glared at the man with his newly focused vision, daring him to rationalize that.

 

Fay held a hand to his chest, and cheered, “Whew! I thought you were a goner already!”

 

“Don’t say it so cheerfully,” he growled back.

 

“How would you like me to say it, Kuro-tan?” he questioned in the same wistful voice.

 

As frustrated as Kurogane was, he just didn’t have the energy to retaliate. Besides, he didn’t want to pass-out for real, especially in front of that guy. “I-I don’t care. It’s your prerogative.”

 

Once again, Kurogane receded into his own thoughts, the only place he could find peace. When he died, he would not be plagued by negative thoughts of drowning his companion. He closed his eyes and meditated on past deeds. He would be at peace and meet his end with the same stoic pride he met every challenge with, not like Fay, frivolous and distracted.

 

Memories of his family flooded his mind, his father, who was just like him in many ways, his mother, so gentle, yet witty. He would join them soon, and that thought gave him some comfort. His soul quivered with anxiety, but he showed no fear. He didn’t want to die, but he didn’t have a choice on the matter. Praying or hoping for someone to rescue him was senseless. He thought of the people who would mourn him. He imagined Tomoyo at the funeral with tears in her eyes, talking about how stubborn he _used_ to be. Then he imagined a nameless preacher droning on about all his accomplishments, lamenting that he died so young, before he had the chance to live a full life, get married, have kids, blah, blah, blah…. Screw that preacher! He regretted nothing; he achieved every goal he ever set for himself! He wasn’t dying with regrets, damn it; he wouldn’t allow it!

 

Kurogane opened his eyes to the image of Fay. He was quiet, for once, almost contemplative, if Kurogane believed him capable of such reflective thought. He stared at the horizon, so the red light of the sun discolored his face. Kurogane was grateful for the unexpected reprieve, but he wondered what triggered this sudden change of character. He was already suspicious of the carefree man, mostly because no one could be that blissfully cheery without some problems. However, this brief personality switch was discontenting. What kind of person acted like that?

 

Kurogane was the one who broke the uncomfortable silence, “Do you have any regrets?” He had to fill the air with sounds other than the eager lapping of ocean waves.

 

Fay’s eyes shifted while his mouth slid into a wry smile, so much for contemplative Fay. He responded, “I was beginning to wonder if you were still alive.”

 

Kurogane quickly reprimanded, “Don’t say it so cheerfully.”

 

“Ah, I see you still have plenty of life in you,” he commented. His voice was chipper and annoying, but Kurogane did not easily forget the man staring solemnly past the horizon.

 

“Stop avoiding the damn question,” he reprimanded again.

 

“You’re so pushy,” he teased right back.

 

Kurogane already guessed that he wouldn’t get a straight answer, not that easily. He finally found someone on this planet more stubborn than him, and it was the last person he would ever know. He wasn’t so sure he knew how to react to that.

 

“Don’t get upset, Kuro-tan. You just took me by surprise. I didn’t think you would be interested.” Kurogane chose to ignore the nickname and the hollow cheer. An intense glare was enough to communicate his irritation. Fay continued, “We all have regrets. It’s natural. Do you have any?” He was playing verbal gymnastics, leaping right over the subject and flipping it around. If it was too personal to answer, he could have just said so.

 

However, Kurogane wasn’t the type to pry into personal issues. He was going to die anyway; why waste his last days meddling into the affairs of a man he could care less about?

 

“I don’t have any regrets,” answered Kurogane.

 

“That’s very resilient of you. I’m impressed. You’re just one groovy guy, eh?” he chatted on, “This reminds me of the story of the fearless crew of the S.S. Minnow.”

 

The irritated man, exhausted and curious how Fay could talk so much when his own throat was burning, unwillingly encouraged him, “Who were they?”

 

Kurogane did not like Fay’s catty smile as he exclaimed, “You’ve never heard of the S.S. Minnow?!” He shook his head. “Don’t you watch television?” he inquired. Kurogane shook his head again.

 

“Was it on the news or something?”

 

“Or something,” Fay answered vaguely. His smile grew more pronounced. “Actually, I have a deep interest in the Minnow’s crew. You see, they were only on a three hour tour when a storm out of nowhere wrecked their ship, and they became marooned on an uncharted island.”

 

Kurogane interrupted, “Three hours? Are you sure you got your facts right? Sounds like you made it up.”

 

“No, I am positive it was a three hour tour, and _I_ did not make it up, Kuro-gan,” he assured.

 

“Who the hell is Kuro-gan supposed to be?!”

 

“It’s in the honor of the Minnow’s first mate; without him there would be no tale to tell, or at least the tale would be significantly shorter.” As Fay delved deeper into his story, Kurogane found him more difficult to take seriously. It was utterly ridiculous. However, it did serve a purpose. It definitely distracted him from his morbid thoughts. He found it impossible to dwell on his impending fate when the other man droned on about wacky inventions, coconut pies, and one bumbling First Mate who should have been killed by the other castaways’ months ago. Kurogane would have concluded it was all made up, except the name, Gilligan, was oddly familiar.

 

When Fay eventually wore out, the sun had just set. An ominous chill was in the air. He was certain Fay felt it as well. His breath was as shaky as his own. Each gulp of air filled his lungs with icicles, but Kurogane needed to breathe. The waves lapping at the raft was like black ink now; the water really did look poisoned. He missed the sun and the unbearable heat. He fleetingly thought of suggesting getting closer for warmth, but then it would just be awkward and still cold.

 

Kurogane did not even think he was capable of falling asleep, but just like last night he drifted off into an uncomfortable slumber. He was jostled awake quickly, and he searched for the source of the disturbance, but only saw Fay, cradled against the rubber raft. It could have been anything that woke him. He had a very rational paranoia. Only a thin layer of raft separated himself from the watery depths. The more he thought about it, the more discontented he felt. They were not alone; underneath them, around them, were alien creatures, invisible yet close. Not for the first time, he thought about sharks skimming inches below him. He worried about Fay. Situations like these could drive a man insane, and Fay already had a tenuous grip on reality. Sure, he was sleeping peacefully now but…

 

…Maybe, he was the one losing his mind. After all, he was seeing danger everywhere, his heart leaping at imaginary disturbances. Why the hell didn’t death just take them? The unholy bastard probably couldn’t find the raft.

 

He forced himself to go back to sleep, anything to escape his thoughts. Eventually, he drifted off with the waves. When he awoke next, he wasn’t any less tired. As if he could get a full night’s rest on that dingy. This time he recognized the sound that woke him, metal scraping against metal. Once again, he found his companion asleep. He could have easily been imagining the sound; he was more than paranoid. He was in the war after all. He never experienced shellshock before, but being trapped in the middle of nowhere could trigger old memories, like the fear of someone slitting his throat in the middle of the night. The man shook his head to rid himself of those paranoid thoughts. His imagination had to be playing tricks on him; after all, when he first woke up, he imagined the sound as Death sharpening his scythe.

 

“Morning,” Fay greeted after a healthy yawn. He stretched his long legs out, his red, scabbed feet flying in the air. He cracked his back, looking like an old, worn man. Fay smiled at him and asked, “Why so quiet, Kuro-sue?”

 

“Don’t say it so cheerfully,” he countered.

“That’s the Kuro-sue I know. Speaking of, I had the strangest dream. There were so many baby turtles but….” Fay stared intently past his shoulder. His mouth held open in mid-sentence. Was this some kind of new, stupid game?

 

“What?” growled Kurogane.

 

“Land.” The word sounded foreign at first.

“Don’t make jokes like that. It’s not funny,” he seethed. He didn’t even dare to believe him. The stupid guy was already hallucinating; there was no way that they were near land. He wanted to look behind him to prove him wrong, but there was a part of him that hoped. If it turned out to be just an illusion or trick, Kurogane’s heart would stop beating, his spirit crushed with nothing left to live for.

 

Fay jumped with vigor, not anything like a stranded despot. He leaped over to Kurogane. “You’re going to tip the boat!” he shouted in alarm. He held on to the sticky, rubber, sides as he swayed.

 

“It’s okay! I can swim!” he announced, and he dived in! Kurogane had no choice but to turn around; he was ready to yell at him that he felt sorry for the shark that would eat him, but the words did not form. Hazy and beautiful, a strip of green floated on top of the watery expanse.

 

He would be damned if that wasn’t land.

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is what I call as part of my "Holy Trinity" of fic. Originally, when I finished TRC and was a young open-eyed author, I had a few good ideas. Three of those ideas were fic worthy. This is the second in line of my almost fully-formed stories. The first of this trinity was, "The Cat and the Canary", and the last is, "Eudaimonia."
> 
> These multichapter stories are not beta'd, but they have been revised so many times over the long years they have been idly sitting on my hard drive.


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